Black Rock Band
by Mio-san
Summary: Black Rock Shooter is a regular girl at OtherWorld Academy- until an attractive sophomore, a mysterious senior, a quiet freshman and her high-strung friend change her life for the crazier. Now, they're facing the music- literally- while struggling with the challenges of high school and newfound popularity. Contains VERY FEW OCs, rated T because it's high school, you know?
1. Meet and Greet

**Chapter One – Meet and Greet (Black Rock Shooter)**

"Black Rock Shooter! Are you listening to me?"

Rock looked up from doodling her katana on the worksheet in front of her and scowled. Even after convincing the office to put "Rock" on her student ID, the teachers still insisted on calling her by her full title, which of course no one went by anymore. "Yes, Miss Vali."

Vali, whose full name was Valiance, shot her an equally sour expression. "I should hope so. The first day of a new school year is no time to get a detention."

"Yes, Miss Vali." Rock went back to doodling her katana. She wasn't scared of the teachers now that she was a sophomore. And she certainly wasn't scared of getting a detention. Everyone knew that Vali threatened detentions all the time but never dealt them out. Besides, Rock wasn't interested in getting in trouble. She wasn't a kid anymore, and kids didn't make trouble for the teachers. That was the freshmen's job.

"… groups of two."

"Hmm?" Rock looked up again, abandoning her drawing. Vali caught her confusion and almost smirked, stalking back over to her desk.

"Right," the teacher proclaimed. "Who is interested in informing those who _weren't listening_ about what we're doing?"

One student towards the back raised his hand, and Vali pointed at him, resting her other hand on Rock's desk triumphantly. "We're getting into groups of two and getting to know each other," he said. He looked about as happy about it as Rock felt. She swallowed, and Vali's rant faded into the background. Rock wasn't anxious to socialize, especially since that hadn't turned out well last year. She just wasn't a social person. She preferred the company of herself. But now the teacher was striding back and forth across the room, pairing people up, and the sophomore knew that the inevitable was about to happen. Rock just had to figure out what to say before—

"Hey there, you."

Rock jumped, and the girl perched on top of her desk shot her a mischievous smile. "Don't worry, I don't bite!"

She was very pretty. She wore the typical school uniform that somehow complimented her figure, and glasses were perched beneath her eyes, though they didn't make her look like a nerd or anything. Her dark hair was curled in a zigzag style, and electric green horns poked out of her head above bangs that covered her forehead. Oh, and she was on top of Rock's desk.

Rock looked down at her own attire and then back at the girl sitting on her desk. "If you don't mind me asking… who are you?"

"I'm Dead Master," the girl said with another grin. "You can call me De-chan, if you want."

"Rock," said Rock awkwardly. "You're my partner, then?"

De-chan ignored her. "You're really cute, you know that?" she said, poking Rock in the forehead. "All you need is a different outfit. And smile. You can't spend the entire year with that pesky little scowl of yours."

"I, er… don't think I can," Rock admitted. "It doesn't come naturally."

"Aw, come on," De-chan coaxed, sliding down from the desk. "Like this!" She whipped around and flashed a charismatic smile to a pair of boys next to them. They practically fell over themselves trying to get to her.

The sophomore waved them off and returned to Rock. "See, that's how it's done! Now you try."

Rock gulped and tried for a smile. De-chan recoiled and shook her head. "No, no, no," she sighed. "That's more of a grimace. Here, let me." The sophomore reached her hands out and stretched Rock's lips until she felt like they would split. "There, you see? So much more approachable." De-chan held out a pocket-sized mirror, and Rock stared at herself. Her mouth was frozen in a way that made her look like she was baring her teeth. "How is this smiling?" she said out of the corner of her lips.

And why was she doing this, anyway? For a girl she had never met, nonetheless. Rock looked ridiculous. She set her mouth back into a straight line and relaxed. "That's better."

De-chan pouted. "Aww. You looked so adorable. Oh well," she chirped, hopping onto the desk in front of them and using Rock's desk as a footrest. "We're supposed to get to know each other, right? So let's get talking."


	2. Victorian Entertainment

**Chapter Two – Victorian Entertainment (Dead Master)**

De-chan smiled affectionately at Rock in front of her. She had the look of an overly mature, slightly sulky teenager who was dressed for a funeral, and yet, she was the cutest thing at the same time. An overly mature, slightly sulky teenager who was dressed for a funeral and couldn't smile, that was. But De-chan had always liked _tsunderes_. All it would take was some work.

And work it was, trying to get this girl to talk. She had chatted halfheartedly about which club she was going to join (Advanced Close Combat, Costumes, etc.) but De-chan could tell that she didn't care. She had tried to touch on the subject of where Rock was from, but a bright blue flame had blazed to life on

her left eye, and they had hurriedly steered away from that. Then, of course, De-chan began to talk about the various boys who had asked her out already and why she had rejected them, but Rock actually began to fall asleep. Apparently she had never had a boyfriend before. Neither had De-chan, but she had had experiences, at least.

Finally, the bell rang, and Vali dismissed them with a tired wave of her hand. Rock started off down the hallway, obviously anxious to get home, but De-chan quickly caught up to her, spindly green wings fluttering behind her. "Hey, want to come to my house? I'll make snacks." She winked at Rock playfully.

Poor Rock had no idea what was going on. Taking advantage of that, De-chan pulled her down the hallway and out past the courtyard, heading in the direction of the train station. "You take the train, Rock?" she asked, linking her arm through hers.

Rock shook her head.

"Good. Call this a taste of the urban lifestyle."

They boarded the train just in time, and De-chan showed Rock how to use the poles for hanging on. They rode along in silence until the conductor called out, "Minami and Yuri!"

Rock jumped at the static of the intercom, and De-chan laughed, taking her arm again. "This is our stop, silly. Come on." She herded Rock out of the train and started off down the sidewalk, passing rows of Victorian-style mansions. Stopping at one colored a dark mint green, De-chan hopped up the stairs with Rock in tow and unlocked the door, pulling her inside. It was a nice sort of place, De-chan thought, though she had de-emphasized the Victorian aspects by filling the house with modern furniture. She looked over at Rock to see what she thought, but the sophomore's cute little face was as expressionless as usual. "Like it?"

Rock jumped again. She was very jumpy, De-chan noticed. "It's very nice."

"Hmm, really?" De-chan pulled Rock over to the couch and sat down, gesturing for her to do so also. She snapped her fingers, and her schoolgirl attire morphed into a black-and-white dress with leggings and extremely high stilettos. "Be honest, 'kay? I like girls who are honest!" De-chan grinned at her baffled classmate.

"I was honest…" she said, then trailed off.

"_Really._" De-chan heaved a dramatic sigh and got up again as quickly as she had sat down. "You like snacks? I have everything you could want here. Pastries, cakes, chocolates…" She flung open the pantry and sighed again, though this one was one of bliss. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth."

Rock fidgeted on the couch. "Do you have coffee?"

De-chan paused. "Coffee?" She would have never imagined this quiet girl drinking coffee, but she got out a box of high-quality espresso and poured some into the coffee machine sitting next to her on the counter. "Okay, if you say so."

The TV flickered to life behind her—Rock had found the remote. She flipped through channels absentmindedly while De-chan watched her, waiting for the coffee to brew. She really was cute, if you thought about it, but very elusive. _Oh well—I bet I can get her to open up to me, at least. I know! I'll start with them!_

De-chan cleared her throat. Rock remained staring at the TV, riveted to a news broadcast about an upcoming OtherWorld competition. "Doku! Kuro! Get in here!"

Her two pets floated into the room and De-chan coaxed them over the couch, hopping over the back of it and slipping onto the cushions next to Rock. "Ever met Doku and Kuro?"

Rock shook her head, shooting her a look of confusion.

"Here they are—" De-chan snapped her fingers again and they zoomed to her command, peering curiously at Rock. She almost could have laughed at the other girl's dumbfounded expression. The two skulls (life-size, almost) hovered over her raised hand, ready to do their master's bidding. "They're like familiars, Rock. Get it? They're usually a lot bigger, but I like them travel-size." She stroked Kuro's head. "Got any familiars of your own?"

Rock shook her head again, poking Doku with a fascinated expression. The coffeepot whistled behind her, but she ignored it and snatched up the remote. "Like them, huh? I think they're pretty cute." She smiled at Rock. "So, what's on?"


	3. Marching To Your Own Beat

**Chapter Three—Marching to Your Own Beat (Strength)**

_Tap tap tappity tap tap tappity tap_

Strength twirled the pencil in her hand and tapped out a quick riff on the stack of binders she was carrying in her other arm. She had always been a percussionist, ever since she was younger—banging on pots and pans in the kitchen, using spoons and forks to create a catchy beat at the dinner table, or even using a pencil and a binder to tap on, as she was doing now. It was just about the only thing that _wasn't _boring anymore, though the teachers saw her lack of interest in the lessons and her constant tapping as your typical ADHD student. Strength hated being classified as one of the "weird kids," but as both the staff _and _her peers had plopped her straight into that category, she didn't find it worthwhile to disprove them. _Might as well, _she decided, _as they couldn't care less about me either way._

Spotting a playground for the younger OtherWorlders to her right, Strength hefted her books in her arm and cut across the woodchips, slipping around to a back row of houses where hers was located. She hopped down to the curb and walked along the edge of the street, balancing carefully as she set off again. Rows of Victorian-style houses lined the street, looming imperiously above her as if to say, _We're better than you, and we know it._

Amusing, as she lived in one of them.

Strength turned into an old-fashioned cul-de-sac and walked up the stone steps to her house, which despite being more modern than the others still managed to fit in. She unlocked the door with a flick of her finger and stepped inside into the cool air, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Peace and quiet," Strength muttered, as she set down her books on the coffee table and sat lightly on a lounge chair, getting started on her homework. _Sketch the parallel of light and shadow. _Art. No. _Solve for x. _Math. No. _Interpret the meaning of the name of a famous OtherWorlder based on the tasks they have completed. _History… or possibly Language? No and no. Art was looking better and better. Strength ripped a blank sheet of paper out of her notebook and began to draw, letting her mind wander.

The first day of school and she had already been tagged. The popular girls had smirked at her, the bookies had rejected her, and even the group of freshmen she had tried to approach ignored her. Strength didn't blame them—it was hard to break routine after several years of being an outcast—but she almost wished that she could find someone to hang out with.

Naturally, there was _her, _but she didn't bother to get Strength involved with her popularity. Not that she cared, but it could be a bit annoying, if anything.

That reminded her… Strength abandoned the drawing, which was looking more and more like an unnaturally thick metal post, and strode over to the phone resting on the counter nearby. She checked the messages and sure enough—there _it _was. There _they _were, actually. Strength selected the first message and turned the volume up all the way, knowing that if she didn't listen to it her friend would find some way to call her out on it.

"_Hi, there," _the message began. _"It's me—we never got to talk after school, so I wanted to check which class you were in. I'm thinking of putting in a transfer request to room 3A. Is that where you are? Well, naturally, if you're in one of the two freshmen rooms, and it's not mine, then obviously it's the other one. I can be such an airhead sometimes. Oh well—I'll meet you at the bus stop tomorrow, as usual."_

Click.

Strength selected the other message—which basically said the same thing—and deleted both, then got back to drawing her metal post. Her pencil tapped absentmindedly on the paper as she thought, then she turned the paper over and started a new drawing, She worked on it all through dinnertime, stopping quickly to have a sandwich and then going back to her drawing. When she finished, there it was: strong and powerful, casting a dark shadow across the page. It was curved and refined, yet battle-worthy and fiercely beautiful. Proud of her work, Strength raced through her other homework (why they would give it out on the first day of school, she wasn't sure) and left the room satisfied, reminding herself to meet her friend at the bus stop the next day.

The drawing of an older girl still sat on the table.


	4. Girl of Red

**Chapter 4—Girl of Red (Black Gold Saw)**

Black Gold Saw was bored.

But then again, wasn't she always?

She shifted uncomfortably in her leather jacket, playing with a strand of her hair as she stood, taciturn, at the corner of the sidewalk. Shouts of laughter echoed down the street as two children raced past her, chasing each other and calling down names of imaginary attacks, then falling to the ground dramatically. Gold, as some of the younger students had called her last year, watched them play, altering her weight from foot to foot. One of them looked a little like she had when she was younger. Her electric purple eyes blazed as she leaped up onto the curb, proclaiming victory.

Gold almost scoffed. They were cute at that age, sure, but once they were admitted to OtherWorld Academy, they became ruthlessly cruel to anyone who didn't fit in. After experiencing their torment firsthand during her freshman year, Gold had returned as an elusive, beautiful sophomore, immune to their cruelty, and had worked hard to maintain her reputation. Now she was in her senior year, and the first day had gone quite smoothly, as she had managed to stick to her plan. Things had basically proceeded as follows:

Everyone: Whoa, who's that senior? Isn't she the pretty sophomore from last year?

Everyone else: Yeah, I heard that she was bullied in her first year, but now she's like the coolest girl in the school!

Everyone: I know right? So unapproachable… yet so cool!

Everyone else: She's not one to be messed with this year, I guess.

And so on and so forth.

Gold had never cared much for rumors, but now she appreciated the ones that were circulating: Black Gold Saw, the beautiful senior, just as mysterious and cold as last year. At least it gave her a reason to stay away from everyone else and focus on her studies. She wanted to graduate with top honors and go on to fight for her other self—life here in the suburbs could get too dull very quickly. Besides, she was only a few months away from her weapon ceremony, and then it was only a matter of time before she was awakened by her other self. Gold felt a small thrill of excitement, but kept it contained like a pesky flame. All of the students at her school had some sort of ambition—the girls to become a top-notch OtherWorld fighter, and the boys to pursue their individual goals. It might have been considered sexist to divide the genders, but everyone was fine with it—that was how they were made, after all.

In a haze of dust, the bus pulled up beside her, and Gold slipped through the doors and took the first empty seat she could find. She checked through her homework—perfect as usual—and then pulled out a notebook and pen as the bus pulled away, after admitting a few more students. In small, neat penmanship, Gold began to write:

_Once there lived a girl of red_

_She went about everything she said_

_The cutting soul that lived inside_

_It forced her to run and hide_

_She ran until fell late the day_

_She ran to throw her life away_

_But still that voice deep inside_

_It began to corrupt her mind_

_A smile that lingered on her face_

_It did not belong in that foreign place_

_The pain that reflected in her soul_

_It began to take its toll_

Four stops later, they arrived at the school. Gold got up and left the bus before anyone else, anxious to get away from the crowds. And crowds there were: students everywhere, chatting and laughing in small groups, already forming cliques, making plans for the next weekend. Gold strode past them, prompting whispers, and walked straight to her locker, ignoring stares from some of the other girls. She started down the hallway again, cradling her textbooks, but someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned slowly, not anxious for a confrontation.

It was a sophomore. She shifted in her uniform, tugging at one of her spiky black pigtails. "I think I'm lost, _senpai. _Could you help me?"

Gold stared. "You've been at this school before…"

"I know," the girl said, looking uncomfortable. "But the sophomore classrooms are different from where the freshman classes are."

Gold regarded her critically, then pointed up the hallway. "Take the first one on the right."

"Thanks." The girl was clearly embarrassed as she scurried down the hall, her footsteps echoing in her wake. Gold shook her head—typical sophomore—and headed off towards her classes. She shared a bit of sympathy, naturally, as she had been a sophomore once, but nowadays they all seemed hopeless to her.

_It's not as if they can help it, _Gold remarked silently with the tiniest of smirks. _I was one of them once, after all._


	5. Child's Play

**Chapter Five – Child's Play (Chariot)**

"Alright, everyone! This time, we'll be doing a extra-hard math problem, so pay attention!"

The students of classroom 3B groaned as one, copying an impossibly complicated problem down into their notebooks. Math period had arrived, and their teacher wasn't holding back… again.

"This isn't fair, _sensei!_"

"Can't we do something easier? It's only the second day!"

"I didn't know this stuff in _grade school_!"

"We'll have none of that!" their teacher announced with a glimmer in her eye. "I intend to teach you all the advanced material if my life depends on it!"

"But it's so _hard!_"

"This is adult-level stuff!"

"You don't even get this for the IS exam!"

"Oh, come on!" the teacher protested, tapping the whiteboard where she had written a complicated explanation of how to solve the problem in question. "I'm sure a freshman could solve this if they tried! You're all exaggerating!"

"Ha… a ha ha…"

"Hmm?" The teacher turned her head, looking for the source of laughter. "Who was that just now?

"A ha… _a ha ha ha ha ha!_" A girl pushed back her chair and doubled over, pounding the desk as she gasped for breath. "_Ha ha ha! A ha ha ha ha ha!_"

"Excuse me, young lady," said the teacher crossly. "You're interrupting class."

"It's… so _easy!_" Chariot chortled, leaning back against the wall with a heaving chest. She pointed to the whiteboard with her hand, where the problem was written. "Thirteen-x. That's the answer."

Stunned, the teacher typed the problem into a calculator laying on her desk and gaped. "That's… right! But how did you…"

Chariot smirked. "Oh, _please. _It's child's play. Just think of me as the classroom genius!" With a flip of her hair, she strode to the door and pulled it open just as the bell rang, then disappeared into the hallway.

The entire class was silent.

Meanwhile, leaning against her locker and shaking with laughter, Chariot drew stares from the other students as they streamed into the hall. "_Complicated,_" she sighed as she opened the locker and rummaged around for her textbooks. "Really."

"Hello, Chariot," a voice sounded behind her. Not surprised in the least, Chariot turned her head and spotted Strength in the mirror. "Hey, it's you!" she chirped with a sudden change of attitude. "You didn't return my messages last night!"

"Homework," said Strength, by way of an explanation.

"Oh, I get it." Chariot found the books she was looking for and used her foot to nudge the locker closed. "I finished it in no time, it was a breeze. Speaking of which, we have art next—what'd you draw?"

"Show you later." Strength clutched her folders to her chest.

"Alright, fine." Chariot adjusted the spiky crown that always sat on top of her head, whether or not it was against school uniform. "But we'd better hurry, we don't want to be late. You hungry?"

Strength shrugged.

"I'm starving. Good thing lunch is after this. Oh yeah, you just had math? Me too. Easy again today. What are they thinking, teaching sophomores a kid's game? I've _got _to talk to the school board…"

The art room was just down the hall, and Chariot pulled Strength through the door and into the nearest seat, where she sat in front of her, then promptly turned back around to talk. "Okay, we're at art now, show me your drawing!"

"Have to?" Strength asked. She liked to use as little words as possible, but in Chariot's opinion it was a ridiculous-sounding product.

"Yes, you _have to. _Speak full sentences!"

Strength shrugged again—probably ignoring her request—and pulled a slightly wrinkled piece of paper out of her folder. Chariot snatched it and held it up to the light, expecting something basic, like a pole or a ledge, only to be surprised. It was a girl—more like a woman, really—who was almost like a more mature, taller version of Strength herself. She cast a long shadow across the page, her expression fierce and powerful. The wreckage of a machine lay about her feet.

Chariot studied it for a full minute. "Wow, I never would have expected this from you."

Strength shrugged—_again_—and Chariot had to point it out. "Stop shrugging and say something!"

"Thanks." Strength averted her eyes in what must have been embarrassment.

"That's better." The drawing really was incredible, it was every inch someone she could imagine her friend as. "I like it. It's cool."

"Thanks," said Strength again, still averting her eyes.

"Okay, _really, _speak for yourself! Don't just repeat yourself constantly?"

"Sorry."

Chariot sighed and leaned back in her chair as the teacher brought the class to order. Strength could be a little irritating sometimes, but she always came through. Especially when Chariot asked… okay, more like ordered, but she was certain that her friend didn't care. Actually, there wasn't any proof that Strength cared about anything. Chariot hadn't ever seen her crack a smile.

The teacher began lecturing, something about the color wheel, and Chariot tuned her out. It was nothing she didn't know. Several years ago, her other teachers had insisted she skip grades, but her younger self had refused—and for good reason, too…


	6. Consider Yourself

**Chapter Six – Consider Yourself A… Singer?! (Black Rock Shooter)**

"Alright everyone, welcome to music class!"

Rock fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat next to De-chan, who was twirling her pencil and humming a melody under her breath. The music room was a large one, with an arched ceiling that made everything echo if you said it loud enough. Desks were messily arranged on the risers where they were sitting, and the wall was plastered with posters of all kinds—music and media, even though such things were rare in the OtherWorld. Instruments were proudly displayed in a case at the front of the room, alongside a long whiteboard covered in indecipherable scribbles. Rock recognized some of them as music lyrics, though she could barely make them out.

She turned to De-chan and gestured wordlessly at the prominent disorganization.

De-chan blinked. "Oh, all the craziness around here? Yeah, rumor has it the teacher's a bit eccentric. I say the stranger the better, but of course you know that already!" She laughed and poked Rock in the arm. "Oh come on, lighten up. I was just kidding."

Rock tried for a smile, but her heart wasn't in it. This place made her nervous—she and music had a complicated relationship, and Rock wasn't anxious to revisit it. Naturally, out of all the extra classes assigned, that fateful subject had been the one given to her, so she had no choice, but she was determined not to let anything escape. Once she did, they would be on dangerous ground.

"Let's take attendance, shall we?"

And then there was the teacher.

She was standing pigeon-toed at the front of the classroom with a stack of paperwork balancing precariously on her pale hands while her blue-black hair bobbed in time to the tapping of her foot. "Let's see… everyone looks like they're here… okay! We can just go ahead and get star—ah!"

The paperwork shifted and fell to the floor, and she groaned and gathered it all up once more. "Not to worry, that's happened twice already… still devising a system! Anyway. My name is Black Infinity Azure, you can all just call me Azu if you like. Today we'll just be easing into the curriculum—and, of course, discovering that little talent of yours!"

Rock's heart stopped. "What?"

"Oh, don't you know?" De-chan said casually. "This is the specials music class. We were handpicked at the beginning of the school year to be in this class. Noticed how there're freshmen, sophs, _and _seniors?"

Rock looked around the room. Sure enough, she spotted a few seniors sitting towards the back, and there was a group of freshmen near the door. _I was too busy worrying! This… this is bad…_

De-chan poked her in the arm again. "Yo, Rock! What's up with you? You're sweating like crazy!"

"I—I'm fine," Rock stammered. "Just a little… hot…"

Before the other girl could question her further, Azu cleared her throat for attention. "Okay! So anyone in here have any experience with instruments?"

About three-quarters of the class raised their hands. De-chan did as well, to Rock's surprise.

Azu sighed. "Great! Alright… let's narrow it down a little. Who's ever done something on a keyboard?"

A few hands went down, but some remained up; including a tall, dark-haired senior who looked vaguely familiar.

"Okay…" Azu quickly counted the hands, then scribbled something on one of her many sheets of paper. "Who can play the guitar?"

De-chan's hand went up again, as did many others. After a quick mental chiding, Rock tentatively raised hers as well.

Her friend looked like she had just won a million dollars. "Ooohhh! Rock! You never told me you play guitaaaar!"

Rock cringed. This was precisely why she hadn't wanted to tell anyone…

Meanwhile, Azu had moved on. "Awesome. So… who's got mad percussionist skills?"

Most of the hands went down. Rock retracted hers quickly, as did De-chan. One of the few hands that came up was a white-haired girl wearing a hood that concealed most of her face, sitting next to one of the students who had raised their hand for guitar.

"Hmm…" Azu wrote the results on her sheet of mystery, then twirled her pen. "Okay, lastly… who can _sing_?"

_This is it._

Rock raised her hand again. Four others did as well: De-chan, the dark-haired senior, the white-haired percussionist, and a blonde girl sitting next to her. Azu took in the results and wrote down one last thing, then cleared her throat once more. Rock guessed it was just to fill the silence. "Great, I've got a talented group right here! You five—" she pointed to Rock, De-chan, and the three other girls—"I'd like to see you all after school in my room."

Rock flinched.

"So, let's get going!" Azu set down her pile of paperwork and wrote out a series of notes on the whiteboard, then began discussing some review topics. De-chan, next to her, was generally immersed, but Rock was petrified. She couldn't believe she had just revealed her biggest secret. It was rare enough to be a singer in the OtherWorld… but when you were a singer with a terrible case of stage fright, it was even worse—and even rarer. And now, Azu wanted to see them after school! Rock briefly considered not going, but discarded the idea as quickly as she had come up with it. If she skipped, people would talk. And if they talked, her secret would escape anyway. It was no use.

The music period flew past, and by the time school was dismissed, Rock was sick with anticipation. De-chan felt her forehead, but said there was no trace of a temperature.

"You're perfectly normal," she said, frowning. "You sure you feeling alright?"

_No, _Rock wanted to say. "Yes," she said, swallowing hard.

De-chan shrugged. "Ah well, whatever. Point is, we're hanging out after school together! This'll be fun, right? Besides, we're both singers! Finally we get some common ground!"

Rock flinched again. She didn't like the idea of being considered a "singer". But it couldn't be helped.

Or could it…?


	7. That Singing Thing

**Chapter Seven – That Singing Thing (Dead Master)**

De-chan couldn't be happier.

Finally, she had an excuse to spend time with Rock after school _besides _working on homework and watching TV at De-chan's house. As soon as the last bell rung, she charged out of their homeroom with Rock in tow, who had turned as white as a stagnated soul, and pulled her down the hallway towards the music room. As soon as they reached the main hallway, however, Rock planted her feet in the ground and wouldn't move. She was as solid as, well, a rock.

"What's wrong?" De-chan let go of Rock's hand and walked over to her, prodding her in the back. "C'mon, let's go!"

"I don't want to." Rock was shaking slightly.

_So cute! _De-chan swallowed her euphoria at Rock's vulnerability and frowned, trying to play the part of the concerned friend. "Are you okaaaay, Rock?"

Rock shook her head by means of an answer.

"Stage fright?"

The dark-haired girl winced, and De-chan knew she had hit a nerve. "Aww, is that it?" she cooed. "Are you scared of singing?"

Tentatively, looking like she was trying to swallow a sword, Rock nodded.

_Hmm. That complicates things. _De-chan thought for a moment, then went with the old-fashioned method of chiding. "C'mon, don't you want to come and sing with me? It'll be fun! Besides, the teacher _did _ask you to come after school, and you have to obey _sensei, _ya know?"

"I… I know…" Rock still looked petrified, as if taking another step would melt her into an OtherWorldly puddle. "I'm just… afraid…" Then she winced again, but this time like she wanted to hit herself.

_Must… not… hug… Rock… _De-chan clenched her fist. When she thought something was cute, she either wanted never to let it go, or slice it in half. But the former was inappropriate considering the situation, and the latter was just out of the question. "Well, you shouldn't be. I bet _sensei _doesn't even care about the singing thing. Maybe she wants some help tidying up that classroom, ne? You saw what it was like."

Unbelievably, Rock cracked a smile. A small one, more like a grimace than anything else, but a smile nonetheless. "Thanks. We can go now."

De-chan couldn't have been more delighted than if she had earned her weapons ceremony a year early. "There, you see? That wasn't so hard. Now, let's go. Remember, it's not about the singing thing."

Of course, it was about the singing thing.

By the time De-chan and Rock reached the classroom, the other three girls had already arrived. The senior was lounging at a desk at the back, scribbling something in a tiny black notebook, and the blonde freshman was talking animatedly to her companion, the quiet white-haired girl who nodded and occasionally shook her head as her friend talked. And then there was Azu herself, who grinned at them as they slipped through the door. "Great! Everybody's here, now we can get started!"

Rock was slowly shrinking behind De-chan, who grabbed her arm and yanked her out into full view. "Remember what we talked about," she scolded. "Now, go and socialize!"

Before any of said socializing could take place, Azu tapped her pencil on the whiteboard for attention. De-chan threw aside socialization and dragged Rock over to a nearby desk, deciding she would rather have the dark-haired sophomore all to herself. "Okay!" Azu announced. "Thanks for showing up, you guys! I knew you were a trustworthy group."

De-chan looked doubtfully around the room at the three other girls. _Eh. They're alright. I prefer Rock._

"Anyway, you're probably wondering why I called you five here. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. But I took those notes on class skills for a reason, and this kind of thing doesn't happen every day."

A tiny _something _sounded next to De-chan. Rock was whiter than humanly possible. Then again, they weren't human.

Azu grabbed her clipboard from her desk. "Okay everyone, we've got Black Gold Saw—keyboard—"

The senior raised her hand lazily, then went back to writing in her book.

"Strength—drums—"

The white-haired sophomore looked up in comprehension. Her companion, the blonde, was murmuring to her with a triumphant look in her eyes.

"Chariot—guitar—"

Chariot, evidently the blonde girl who couldn't seem to stop talking, crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair, and made a curious gesture with her hand, almost as if to say, _Yes, yes, everyone here knows me, can we move on?_

"Dead Master—guitar—"

De-chan shot everyone a mischievous smile and wiggled her fingers by way of a greeting.

"And Black Rock Shooter, our little vocal star."

Rock looked like she was about to faint. "I never… I never…"

"Everyone's here—great!" Azu checked something off on her clipboard, then tapped her pencil again. "Of course you can all sing, and don't think I didn't notice your hand go up for guitar as well, Black Rock Shooter! Now, I'd like to hear a sample of your skills—everyone up for that?"

De-chan and the three other girls nodded, more or less enthusiastically. Rock seemed to be focusing on breathing.

"Great!" Azu exclaimed. She walked over to the display case, pulled a keyboard from its shelf, and set it up on its stand. "Black Gold Saw, let's have you up here first, okay?"


	8. Percussionist's Confusion

**Chapter Eight – Percussionist's Confusion (Strength)**

It would be a severe understatement to say that Strength was confused.

After the last-period bell sounded, Chariot was practically bouncing off the walls. "Someone to recognize my talent!" she sighed, her eyes sparkling. "Finally, something that doesn't bore me to death every two minutes. We're going, Strength!"

Strength didn't like the sound of this. She had been asked to stay after school plenty of times, and every single time, it had been an appointment with the guidance counselor, or a recommendation for medication—anything to stop her incessant tapping, really. And now, it was happening all over again—_So much for a fresh start in high school_, she thought to herself.

Still, though, Chariot was very excited about the whole prospect of being "discovered", as she put it, and Strength didn't like to disappoint her friend—mostly because she would pay for it dearly. So they set off for the music room, Chariot chatting amiably about which piece she should play when she was asked to sample her music. Strength wanted to point out that there was no proof that she would be asked to "sample her music", but decided to keep her mouth shut. It usually paid off in the end.

To Chariot's overdramatized relief, they weren't late; the quiet, dark-haired senior was seated in a desk at the back of the room and Azu-_sensei _was pecking away at her computer, but the other two students had yet to arrive. In the space of a few more minutes, they burst through the door, and their teacher took attendance while Chariot whispered her plans for becoming an idol supreme in Strength's ear. She paid no attention to her friend's eccentricities, however. As soon as Azu-_sensei _mentioned her name, Strength was all business.

_Drums? This is about my musical talent?_

Within a few more minutes, Azu-_sensei _had called the senior, Black Gold Saw, up to the front. Strength paid little attention to the current proceedings, instead choosing to cast her gaze at the two other girls, Dead Master and Black Rock Shooter. She had never seen them before, nor did she care.

So why, she wondered privately, did she feel so drawn to them?

Black Gold Saw finished her piece, a beautifully crafted thing on such an instrument. She returned to her seat and Azu-_sensei _applauded, grinning. "Wonderful! Just great. Alrighty, I've got that down… Strength! Why don't you come up next?"

Strength looked up calmly and stood up from her seat. Chariot tugged at her arm. "Oya! Do well up there and you'll make us both rich!"

She ignored her. If Chariot was spouting nonsense, it was probably exactly that.

Azu-_sensei _wheeled out a drum set, and Strength caught her breath. She had never seen the actual thing before, and it was beautiful—much better than a pencil and a fifty-cent binder. Carefully, as if she was afraid to damage it, Strength eased herself onto the stool and picked up the drumsticks, inhaling and then exhaling heavily. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew, her hands were playing out an incredible riff unlike anything she had ever tapped before. Daring to open her eyes, Strength let her instincts kick in, and worked the pedals with her feet while the sticks moved on their own, forming a pretty catchy beat. Even Chariot was nodding along.

When she finished, Strength set down the drumsticks and waited for the incredulousness. No one had ever believed that such a tiny girl with no voice could have that much in her.

But instead, Azu-_sensei _broke into loud, enthusiastic applause, along with Chariot. The other three girls clapped politely. "Great!" the teacher proclaimed, smiling as she gestured Strength off the stand. "That's impressive, if I do say so myself."

Strength's face grew hot. She believed it was something called _blushing._

Azu-_sensei _clapped once more and then consulted her clipboard as the white-haired girl slipped back into her seat and was immediately overwhelmed by Chariot. "That was great!" she stage-whispered. "Now, _sensei _just needs to be wowed by my guitar act—which _obviously _she will—and we'll be set for life! Let the money roll in!"

Once again, Strength ignored her. She held no interest in her friend's moneymaking schemes, and for good reason.

"Okay, next up…" Azu-_sensei _made a few quick notes on the clipboard. "Chariot! Let's have you up here, alright?"

Chariot almost leaped out of her seat and practically skipped down to the front of the room. Strength watched her pick a bass guitar from the selection and sighed, covering her ears.

It wasn't that her friend wasn't good… in fact, it was that she was _too _good…

**Hi, everyone! I know it's kind of abrupt—and late—but I'll be making my announcements here from now on. I know this was kind of a short one… sorry about that. The action's really picking up, huh? I'm so excited! Please review and thank you for reading!**


	9. Azu's Enthusiasm

**Chapter Nine – Artificial (Black Gold Saw)**

**A/N: Gasp! It's an author's note! In BRB! Heh, sorry it took so long, but you'd be surprised what I can overlook.**

**Anyway, the ninth chapter of Black Rock Band! A Thousand Year Solo belongs to Vocaloid. IT IS NOT MY CREATION.**

_Although this entire body is nothing but artificial_

_At least, this heart, let it be dedicated to you in songs_

_Underneath this moon, there's no longer a way to meet you again, but_

_Towards this sky, I will still continue to sing._

The words still lingered in Gold's mind as she sat calmly at her desk, twirling her pencil eraser lazily across the notebook page. At the front of the room, the white-haired freshman, Strength, had taken her seat, and her peers' clapping faltered as their disorganized teacher, Azu, ran through her notes. Gold had never been one for singing, and she wrote her poems as _poems, _not songs. But, she supposed, they could work as lyrics.

_There's no longer a way to meet you again…_

Though they _were _slightly angst-ish for entertainment value.

"Okay, next up…" said Azu, and Gold jumped imperceptibly. She reminded herself, scowling, not to get too caught up in her own thoughts. "Chariot! Let's have you up here, alright?"

The blonde freshman—Chariot—sprang out of her seat like she was fired from a cannon and hurried up to the front of the room, her shoulders thrown back, a smirk resting on her face. Gold recognized that look all too well; it was the very look she had had on her face the first day of school. On the contrary to Gold, however, Chariot's never seemed to falter.

"Greetings, fellow students and not-so-fellow geniuses!" she proclaimed. "I am Chariot, heir to the spotlight, and I will be performing an original piece on the bass guitar!"

Gold sweatdropped, as did everyone else in the room. In front of her, the green-horned girl—Dead Master—whispered something in her friend's ear.

Reaching into the display case, Chariot retracted one of Azu's guitars and looped the strap around her neck, still smirking. With a nod to the teacher, she lifted her hand high in the air and ripped out a stunning chord on the instrument that reverberated through the room. Instinctively, Gold leaned back as the sound buffeted her ears. The freshman went on to slice her fingers across the strings, playing a riff you'd be hard-pressed to hear from any expert guitarist. Finally, she brought it to a close, hand sliding skillfully down the neck of the guitar, as Azu and the other students gaped at her.

"And that's all for today~!" proclaimed the slight girl, re-mounting the guitar in its place. "Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from!" Chariot flounced back to her seat next to Strength and high-fived her, palming the other girl's tiny hand with a finesse not unlike what she exuded.

In other words, Chariot was on fire on _and _off the stage.

"That… was… incredible!" squealed Azu, jumping up and down like a crazed fangirl. She flapped her hands in every direction and accidentally knocked a stack of books off of her desk, sending them sliding across the floor. Apparently, their teacher didn't care. "Amazing! Amazing! You're a star in the making, Chariot!"

Chariot simply nodded and steepled her fingers, as if she'd heard it all before.

"Okay! Okay…" Azu calmed herself down, still grinning like a maniac. "That's _great_! All… righty. Dead Master, you're up next, okay?"

The girl with the green horns who had been whispering before got up and sidled her way down to the front. She was quite attractive, Gold noticed, and looked very confident as she selected a guitar—the regular kind—from the display and settled it in place at her waist. With a wink and tiny wave to her friend, Dead Master plucked at one of the strings experimentally, then proceeded to play a quick, high-flying piece she clearly had memorized. Eyes flitting around the room at the speed of light, she seemed to embody her song, always moving, never entirely still. When she finished, Azu and the others clapped politely, with a small, shy burst of applause from her companion, the spiky-haired blackette.

"Just call me De-chan," was all the girl said, and waggling her fingers at Azu, stalked back to her seat and sat down, poking her friend in the shoulder.

"That was great!" praised Azu. "We've got some very talented people here, I say. Okay! Looks like we've gotten through everyone…"

There was a tiny sigh.

"…except for Black Rock Shooter! C'mon up, please!"

The sigh turned to a strangled squeak. In front of Gold, the blackette had begun to tremble.

_Stage fright? _wondered Gold. _She doesn't talk much… perhaps she's afraid of performing…_

**__A/N: That's a wrap! For now, at least. Thank God I finally got off my butt and wrote this chapter. Now I just have to write the next one... and the next one... and the next... _sigh. _Oh well.**


	10. Stage Fright

**A/N: Okay! Thank God I finally faced my writer's block and figured this chapter out. I'll try to be more consistent, so just be patient with me!**

**By the way, the song in this chapter is MINE. I wrote it. So you guys better like it!**

Rock had a lump in her throat the size of a, well, rock.

The roaring in her ears drowned out her friend's words of encouragement as De-chan patted her on the head and hopped back to her seat. She _hated _performing in front of people. Why had she agreed to this? This was ridiculous. Rock didn't sing. Not at all. She should have left before De-chan had dragged her down to this death trap…

"Black Rock Shooter!" Azu tapped her pencil on the whiteboard. "We're ready when you are!"

"I, uh…" Rock fidgeted. She could feel her classmates' stares burn into her head like a thousand tiny bullets.

"Er… I'm Rock," she continued, and Chariot snickered. Faltering, Rock tried to speak louder. "I'm Rock, and I'm going to sing, um…"

It suddenly occurred to the sophomore girl that she had no idea what she was going to sing.

"Don't worry!" chirped Azu, and Rock jumped. The teacher shuffled through the mess of papers on her desk and pulled out a sheet of what looked like lyrics. She handed them to the girl and pressed a button on her radio after inserting a CD. "Here. A friend of mine wrote this as a demo. Just follow along, okay?"

"I—um—I'm not sure—" Rock scanned the lyrics as the song soared over Azu's tiny speakers, filling the room with a unique, techno melody. She sucked in a huge breath, then let it out, facing her peers. De-chan grinned at her, swaying back and forth to the music. Chariot crossed her arms, while Strength eyed her impartially. Gold sat forward, lacing her fingers. She seemed interested in the sophomore girl's nervousness.

The first chorus approached. Rock cleared her throat and opened her mouth.

_My world is dyed a monochrome _

_Colors that are now lost_

_I'm trapped in a dimension of black_

_The colors of different shades_

_They have all left me_

She steamrollered on, closing her eyes and letting the song envelop her.

_My world is dyed a monochrome_

_Colors that are now lost_

_I'm wandering in a world of nothingness_

_The only hint of color left to me_

_A nameless color trapped within the depths of my eyes_

The song continued, and so did Rock, letting the small audience fade into the back of her mind. She sang on, reciting the words as best she could.

_I am currently spread thin_

_Stretched across the plane of existence_

_A black star surrounded by brightness_

_As I look on_

_It begins to take on a new color_

She caught sight of the next verse and almost lost her resolve, but decided to give it a shot.

_No longer will I be alone_

_I may be different, but they welcome me_

_I can open my mouth and try to speak_

_But the words that emerge are still dyed a dull color_

The verses began to pass, faster and faster. Rock kept her eyes closed, only opening them to scan and memorize the next verse. When she eventually realized she had reached the last one, she took one last breath and gave it her all.

_My world is dyed a monochrome_

_Staring at myself across the glass_

_The girl I once knew is still me_

_My destiny yet to be determined_

_A nameless color bleeds out onto the horizon_

Rock opened her eyes.

They were all applauding; De-chan was on her feet, jumping up and down, and Chariot nodded in approval, nudging her white-haired friend, who showed just the slightest hint of contentment. Up at the back of the classroom, Gold clapped with an amused smile.

_I can't believe it, _thought Rock to herself. _What the heck did I just do?_

A hand landed on her shoulder, and the girl jumped. Azu's grin stretched her lips like elastic. "Wonderful!" she cried. "You, Black Rock Shooter, have amazing talent!"

_I… have talent? _Rock repeated silently. _I have talent. I actually did it._

She felt a giddy sort of feeling rise in her chest as De-chan wrapped her arms around her and Chariot joined them with an affectionate sigh. Strength and Gold followed, exchanging looks.

"Okay!" Azu put her hands on her hips. "Now that I've seen you're all very clearly talented people, it's official!"

"Official as in what… Azu-_sensei_?" Gold cast a glance at the door.

Azu grinned at them. "You need to start a band!"

Rock felt her stomach drop through her toes, through the floorboards and straight into the basement of the school.

_What?_

**A/N: Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger!**

**You're probably all going to destroy me in the reviews since I haven't written in a long time and this is probably a crappy chapter. Well, too bad. I'm continuing anyway.**

**Tune in next time for more BRB!**


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